Summer Lovin
by Isabella
Summary: Doyle/Cordelia in the summer time!


Title: Summer Lovin'

Author: Princess Passion

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from "Angel" or anywhere else. I also don't own Bennigan's, an absolutely **_fabulous_** Irish restaurant in Louisiana. I'm pretending there's one in Los Angeles. Don't sue, I have nothing you want.

Distribution: Anyone who wants it.

Summary: Fluff set in the middle of Summer. That means hot, sweaty, wet Doyle.... Oh, boy! Fun to be had by all!

Rating: PG13, or R A few bad words, and some descriptive scenes.

Notes: Alternate time-line. Doyle never died. Doyle never died. Doyle never died. Just keep repeating that and we'll be okay! Speech is, of course, indicated with " ". Thought is indicated with (( )). I'm also assuming that Cordelia can, in fact, be nice, if she wants to. For those of you who don't know what an 11:11 wish is, it's pretty self-explanatory. HAVE FUN!!

Dedication: This is for my amiga, Courtney. It's all about **_fun in the sun_****_!!!_**

  
  


ON WITH THE FIC-

  
  


It was hot. Very, very hot. Blistering, actually. It was mid-July in Los Angeles; it didn't get much hotter than this. The side walks smoldered, even at sun rise; you could see the steam rising off the pavement, and nobody went out wearing more clothing than was necessary to be legal.

The sweltering morning sun shone brightly into the second story window of Cordelia Chase's apartment bedroom. The carpeted floor had nothing on it, (due to a late night cleaning spree done out of boredom), except the thin blanket that should have been covering the occupant of the bed in the middle of the room. A group of tiny birds, perched on a tree outside, chirped their cheerful songs, while inside, Cordelia lay peacefully asleep in her bed. 

The phone rang, shrill and unwanted, jerking her out of her calm dreamful state. The mixture of annoyance and confusion beaming from her half-open eyes was an indication she would **_not_**__ be using her "polite phone manners" with the idiot who had the audacity to call and wake her up at....she turned to glance at the clock.... "8:00 in the morning!?" She squealed out loud. She rolled over and lunged at the phone, desperate to stop the incessant ringing. "Hello?!" She said through gritted teeth, trying to sound calm, and **_not_**__ like she had just woken up. 

  
  


"Hey Princess. I didn't wake ya, did I?" It was Doyle. Cordelia's feelings of joy and disgust battled for a split second, she didn't know why. Ultimately, disgust won; but only because he had woken her up. She found herself realizing that disgust was winning less and less these days, where Doyle was concerned. She pushed the thought from her mind, 'It's too early for deep thought', she told herself. "Of course not, Doyle! It's not like I need a_ **whole lot**_ of beauty rest." Cordelia replied smugly, or fake smugly, she wasn't sure which one had come out, or which one it was meant to be, even. But that shouldn't matter, should it? 

  
  


"No, you sure don't Princess," he said slowly and sweetly. He had to convince Cordy that his feelings for her were more than just sexual, and that meant being as nice as humanly(or half-humanly, anyway) possible. On the other end of the phone, Cordelia couldn't help but smile at the kindness she heard in his voice; the kindness she only heard when he was talking to her. She recovered quickly with, "So, why are you calling me?" She grimaced as she realized it sounded a lot less harsh in her head. 

  
  


((Okay, well maybe she** _is_**__ warmin' up t' me, she just has trouble expressin' it. Yeah, that's it.)) "Um, well, I actually just wanted t' tell ya that Angel has gone into one o' his super depressed moods, and, uh, he's kinda left town." 

  
  


"What!?" Cordelia shrieked. ((That big doof, why doesn't he just get over his big, sad, sob-story already?! He'd be so much happier without it. I mean, please, that much moping should be illegal.))

  
  


"Oh, but don't you worry, he left a note. He said he just needs t' think. He'll be back in a few days, an' he's givin' us the time off." Doyle answered quicky, so as not to worry his Princess. 

  
  


"Is it paid?" Cordelia asked after a few seconds. Doyle couldn't help but laugh at this. That was his Princess, always remembered to ask the "important" questions. "What?" She asked impatiently, completely missing the humor in what she had said a moment before. 

  
  


"Oh, nothin' Cordy. It is as far as I know." ((She **_is_**__ a piece of work. But that's why I like her, now isn't it.))

  
  


There was a moment of silence, then, "Okay, so thanks for calling to tell me," Cordelia said, trying to sound nice. For some strange reason, she was actually worried about hurting Doyle's feelings before. She had never really cared about others' feelings, and frankly, she didn't know what to do with her new-found conscience. 

  
  


"Sure Princess, any time," was Doyle's sincere response. 

  
  


((Damn! Again with the sweetness thing. How am I supposed to fight that?)) Cordelia thought. ((How do I know if he seriously cares about me, or if he just wants another scratch in the wall? And if he doesn't really care, how do I defend myself against him? God, I can feel my self control slipping more and more every time I'm around him. I can't believe this! I'm actually admitting to myself that I have f....fee.......feelings. For.... Doyle!!)) She didn't know whether to shudder or cry tears of joy at this proclamation. She didn't have time to decide, her thoughts were cut short by, "Hellooo..." 

  
  


"Oh! Yeah! Um, I was just, uh, thinking! She tried desperately to sound nonchalant. 

  
  


"Thinkin' eh? Thinkin' about me?" ((Long shot, but stranger things have happened.... Right?)) 

  
  


"Doyle, don't flatter yourself." Cordelia said flatly, out of instinct. She immediately regretted it. ((You know what, this conscience stuff is, like, no fun **_at_**_ **all**_!)) " I'm sorry Doyle. I didn't mean that." 

  
  


"It's okay Princess, I'm used t' it." He replied matter-of-factly, and she could tell he wasn't trying to make her feel bad. 

  
  


Cordelia thought for a minute, then, she took a deep breath and said, "Doyle, would you like to go to lunch with me today?" When he hesitated, she added, "Just because, ya know, we've got the day off and everything, I thought it would be fun, just you and me, me and you, together, having lunch, today. ((Shit, I'm babbling. And it was going so well....)) She mentally chastised herself. 

  
  


"Sure, Cordy. I'd love to," came the shocked and somewhat eager reply. ((She's just bein' nice, Doyle, don't go an' get all excited.)) Doyle thought to himself. 

  
  


"Good!" Cordelia announced, to both Doyle and herself, as she heaved a sigh of relief. ((What's the harm of lunch....with me in a super-cute outfit. It's just food. And Doyle. But I can handle it. Yeah, I can handle it!)) She reassured herself.

  
  


"Okay then, I'll be at th' office today anyway, tidying up... so you can come by there if you want t', or..." Doyle suggested, before he was interrupted by Cordelia.

  
  


"Oh, yeah, that's good. I'll be there about noon, okay?" Cordelia asked, hoping to get this part over with quickly.

  
  


((Whatever she wants is fine with me.)) "Sure Cordy, that's perfect," he said, again, so sweetly.

  
  


((God, why does he have to have that gorgeous, soothing, absolutely intoxicating Irish lilt? It's so not fair, it just makes him more irresistible. Wait! Doyle, irresistible?! What is happening to me? What is the world coming to?)) Cordelia again drifted off in thought.

  
  


"Princess...." ((I wonder what's on her mind.)) " You okay? You seem to be thinkin' quite a lot this mornin'." Doyle said, more concerned than nosy.

  
  


"Yeah Doyle, I'm fine. It's not exactly call for a national holiday whenever I have thoughts, ya know."Cordelia replied smartly. ((He deserved it this time.))

  
  


"I know Princess, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Forgive me?" Doyle asked her, his voice like that of a little boy.

  
  


((Of course. Like I ever wouldn't.)) Cordelia thought. "Maybe. It just depends on how nice you are at lunch." She said with a smile.

  
  


"I'll be the man of your dreams, Princess." Doyle said, and he meant it in more instances than one.

  
  


((Just make me fall completely head over heels, why don't ya!)) "Yeah, well, I'll see you in a couple of hours. Bye Doyle." Cordelia stated fondly.

  
  


"Bye Cordy." Doyle said simply. Then the line went dead with a click. He held the phone in front of him for a moment, before returning it to it's base. ((How strange, yet lovable that girl is.)) He thought while shaking his head, as he walked back into his bedroom to get a change of clothes. He couldn't meet his Princess looking like this, now could he? "I said I'd be th' man of her dreams, an' a gentleman always keeps his word," he mumbled to himself, with a smile, as he pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain white tank top, that just happened to show off his exquisitely tan and muscled arms and shoulders. He was uncomfortably hot in the jeans, but they looked better than just a pair of shorts. He went to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, putting it in his mouth. He walked back out into the livingroom and picked up a pair of sunglasses and his wallet(checking to see how much money was in it) and headed out the door.

  
  


Across town, Cordelia looked at the clock as she hung up the phone. 8:15! That only gave her 3 hours and 45 minutes to get ready! It was cutting it close, but she thought she could make it. She slowly got out of bed, wearing only a blue tank top and matching underwear, due to the sweltering heat, and made her way to the bathroom. Once there, she washed her face with the clear orange bar of soap sitting in the dish, used her daily pore clearing astringent, brushed her teeth with her whitening toothpaste, and of course, flossed, using cinnamon flavored dental floss, her fave! She then took her hairbrush out of the drawer and brushed the nighttime tangles out of her hair. She put the hairbrush down on the sink and retrieved her favorite apple and herb shampoo and conditioner from under the sink, along with her special loofa and exfoliating seaweed soap. She carried the items over to the shower and set them down, then turned on the water. When it was at a temperature she liked, she shed her skimpy night clothes and got in.

  
  


Forty minutes later, when the water had gotten cold, she climbed out, wrapped herself in a big, soft, fluffy towel, and exited the bathroom, hairbrush in hand. When she got to her dresser, she brushed her hair again and evenly applied a small drop of smoothing gel. She then blow dried her hair strait, not wanting to take the chance that it might not come out perfect if she just let it air dry. She purposely avoided the fact that she was doing all this primping with a song in her heart, because it was for Doyle. After she finished with her hair, she decided to pull it back until she got ready to go. She changed into a light, silk robe and headed to the kitchen to grab her breakfast of orange juice and half a bagel. She vaguely heard Dennis,(her very own resident spook) turn on the TV in the livingroom. She was too busy with her daydream of Doyle to notice. When she had finished with breakfast and brushed her teeth again, Cordelia went back to her room and applied her face-full of makeup with the same expert's touch that she always did. While putting on her eye-liner, she had a great idea, an absolutely fabulous idea: ((We should go to the pool today!)) "I don't care if Doyle likes it or not, he is going to come swimming with me if it kills him," Cordelia said under her breath, a sly smile spreading across her face. ((It will be the perfect opportunity to show off my new swim suit! And flirting never hurt anybody, so what's the harm?))**{Insert evil cackle}**. 

  
  


30 minutes later, when she was satisfied with her makeup, she got up to get dressed. She put on her brand new, hot pink, barely there bikini, followed by a black spaghetti strap tank top, and an pair of light blue (very short) cut offs. She took her hair down and looked in the mirror. ((Oh, yeah, he's gonna completely freak out when he sees me. Cor, your **_too_**__ good.)) She looked at the clock again, 11:11. ((Ooo!! I get to make a wish!)) She closed her eyes and wished on every star in the heavens that today with Doyle would go perfectly and that it would grow into something more. She didn't question the choice to make that wish, she just did it. When she opened her eyes, it was 11:12. "Okay, if fate ever owed me a favor, it's time to pay up." She said to Dennis, who she had felt walk (or float) in a moment before. "I think I deserve it, don't you?" She asked the phantom, not really expecting to get a response. The radio in the corner switched on and started playing the song, "I Love You" by Sarah McLachlan. 

  
  


_[Oh and evertime I'm close to you, there's too much I can't say, and you just walk away. And I forgot.... to tell you... I love you...]_

  
  


"Yeah, she has a song for everything, doesn't she?" Cordelia said quietly. "It's like she wrote the soundtrack to my whole damn life." She added bitterly. 

  
  


Before she had a chance to continue, Dennis floated a bright orange beach bag to her. "Okay, okay, I'll stop with the whining." she promised. She snatched the bag out of the air and started to pack all kinds of pool-time-fun necessities. (( Colored sunscreen, check; beach ball, check; big towel,check; temporary tattoos, check; flip-flops, check; nail polish, check.)) "Okay, I think I'm all ready!" Cordelia declared a while later. Dennis lifted the temporary tattoos and nail polish out of the bag as if to ask, "Why?"

  
  


"Ugh, listen, I know you died, like, a long time ago, but haven't you been paying any attention to the world?" Cordelia asked her friendly spirit. "The tattoos are to put on before I bake...." Still nothing from the phantom. "And when it comes off, there's a butterfly shaped not-tan spot. Duh Dennis! And the nail polish is to, big surprise, paint my nails with. In this heat they'll dry in, like, a minute flat. Don't tell me you couldn't figure that one out." She said with her usual smart tone. The two items in the air went on there sides, a sign that Dennis had shrugged, then were placed back into Cordelia's bag. ((Men....)) She thought. She turned around again and looked at the clock. 11:32. "I guess I should get going. See ya later Dennis!" The brunette once-cheerleader said as she walked out of the bedroom, picked up her purse, and put on a very stylish pair of sunglasses. She turned around once more, and with a class that was purely Cordelia Chase, she waved, "Tah, Tah." She swung herself around and left her apartment, not bothering to lock the door. If something happened while she was gone, she knew Dennis had his ways of taking care of it. 

  
  


_((How strange, yet lovable that girl is.))_ _Dennis thought as she closed the door behind herself_.

  
  


Cordelia Chase smiled as she walked down the stairs to her red "QueenC" mobile. She was going to meet Doyle, they were going to have lunch, then go swimming. She realized he probably wasn't wearing swim trunks right now, so they would have to stop by his apartment on the way to private club they would be swimming at. Her smile got even bigger. Doyle...... Ahhh, that name made her skin tingle, it made her breath catch in her throat. She was loving the fact that she had **_finally_** admitted her feelings for the cute little Irishman. She also loved the fact that when she set her sights on a guy, he was as good as her's. **{Insert evil cackle again}** She kept these happy thoughts in mind as she got in her car and drove off.

  
  


Meanwhile, inside 'Angel Investigations':

"OWWW!! DAMN IT!! STUPID BOX!!WHAT TH' HELL IS IN THIS THING??!! Doyle screamed as he bent to remove the 80 pound box from on top of his toes. Why did he have to clean up? Angel couldn't have done it when he got back from "MopeyVille"? Or, here's a radical thought: he couldn't have hired someone else to do it? "God, I'm not gettin' paid enough t' do this kinda crap!" He exclaimed out loud, to nobody in particular. He set the box down on Cordelia's desk, muscles rippling, and went over to the stereo. ((Might as well have some workin' music.)) He thought. He turned on the radio, the first song he heard was "I Love You" by Sarah McLachlan. 

  
  


_[I have a smile stretched from ear to ear, to see you walkin' down the road. We meet at ther lights, I stare for a while, the world around us dissap......]_

  
  


"Nice song, just not my first pick...." he said as he continued to scan stations. He settled on "Stay Young" by Oasis. After he turned the volume up, he went back to throwing out papers, moving boxes, and sifting through files. He smiled when he looked up at the clock, "11:11, must be my lucky day!" he said to himself. He shut his eyes tightly and wished with all his might that Cordelia, the object of his undivided, total and complete devotion, would someday look to him as more than a friend. ((Soon would be nice)) the handsome Irishman added, as an afterthought. He opened his eyes and it was 11:12. ((Huh, like that wish is gonna come true in my lifetime.....)) Doyle thought. ((My luck, I'll probably be dead by th' time Cordy realizes she likes me.)) He turned back around and picked the extremely heavy box up off Cordelia's desk. "Oh, boy, I'd better get paid extra for doin' this," he complained, though he kept working diligently.

  
  


At 11:54, Cordelia pulled to a stop outside 'Angel Investigations', the 8th track of her Christina Aguilera CD blaring.

  
  


_[What I'm lookin' for, is someone to love me more, than I've been loved before with love so right.......]_

  
  
  
  


She turned the engine off and looked at the front door of the building she was about to enter. ((Why am I so nervous? It's just Doyle, I see him, like, every day of my life. But not like this.... Never like this.)) She took a deep breath and got out of the car. She walked around the front to the door, trying to ignore the massive amount of angry butterflies in her stomach. She was surprised by how much she was shaking as she opened the door. ((The door to the rest of my life...)) she thought. ((Cor, calm down, it's just a guy.)) She tried to tell herself, but she knew that this was not just **_a_**__ guy, this was **_the_**__ guy. She walked into the office and found Doyle's back to her. ((Ooo! Not helping!)) She thought as his shoulder muscles rippled. 

  
  


He turned around with some files in his hands. "Hey Princess. Wow, you look......" he was actually speechless at the sight of her. (( How do I find the right words, I don't think they even exist.)) He thought as he pused to look at all of her. "Breathtaking." He said, almost a whisper, in his luxurious, accented voice.

  
  


((Oh God, **_sooo_** not the time to faint!)) Cordelia thought as she blushed and said simply, "Thank you Doyle." They were both surprised by how many emotions came out in those three words: happiness, nervousness, kindness, modesty, and the most shocking to both, love. "So...... you ready to go?"

  
  


"Oh yeah, I was just finishing up!" Doyle said as he stuffed several 'C' files into the 'J' drawer. Cordelia smiled at this and hooked her arm with his when he came to stand beside her. "Shall we go?" Doyle asked, like a gentleman.

  
  


"We shall," was Cordelia's response, accompanied by a big, bright smile. ((God, I **_so_** love him.))

  
  


((God, I **_really_** love her.))

  
  


They stared into each other's eyes as they walked out of the building, to Cordelia's car. Doyle got in the passenger's side, while Cordy walked around to the driver's side. As Cordelia turned the car on, the CD she had been listening to started playing again.

  
  


_[When you put your hands on me...OOO ,OHH...]_

  
  


Cordelia blushed as Doyle smiled. "Do you want to listen to something else?" Cordelia asked. 

  
  


"Oh, no. This is just fine." Doyle said with a sly grin.

  
  


Cordy rolled her eyes, "Whatever" she said, also with a grin. She put her foot to the gas and off they went, screeching tires and all.

  
  


20 minutes later they came to a halt outside 'Bennigan's Irish Pub and Grill'. "I've always loved this place, I used to eat here every time we came to L.A. And now I have my very own little Irish man to come here with!" Cordelia squealed happily. Doyle was still reeling from being "her very own" little Irish man when Cordelia got out of the car and, tired of waiting, knocked on his window.

  
  


"Oh, hey, yeah, I was, uh, just thinkin'." Doyle slightly stuttered as he opened the door and got out, looking into his Cordy's eyes.

  
  


"Okay, well, let's go," Cordelia said nicely as she looked into Doyle's eyes.

  
  


"Okay Princess." Doyle replied. They walked into the casual restaurant and were seated in a matter of minutes. After they had ordered, they just sat in silence, simply enjoying the presence of the other. Then, all of a sudden, Doyle slowly lifted a hand, reached across the table, and touched Cordelia's shoulder. ((What's he doing?)) Cordelia thought in that instant.

  
  


Then he slid her swim suit strap back under her tank top and said, with a seductive smile, "Hot pink, eh'? Pretty provocative, Princess."

  
  


"Oh," Cordelia breathed, looking down at her shoulder. "It's a swim suit, for when we go....." she paused, "uh oh, I never actually asked you, did I?" At Doyle's questioning glance, Cordelia continued, "I had this great idea that we should go swimming today, and I was gonna ask you about it, but I kinda forgot. So..... do you wanna go swimming?" 

  
  


Doyle smiled at his Princess and replied, "I'd love t', but I, unlike you, am not currently wearin' a swim suit." 

  
  


"Oh that's okay, we can just swing by your place and pick one up. Is that okay?" She asked.

  
  


"Sure Cordy, that's fine. Just then their food arrived. 

  
  



End file.
